


Subways, Cuts and Pastry

by BornofFlame



Series: Healing is chaotic, but so are we. [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nightmare, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, abuse tw, cutting tw, don't read this if you are having a hard time with thoughts, it's dark, it's really sad, no beta we die like men, that one year that virgil spent in new york, virgil's dad is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25442491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornofFlame/pseuds/BornofFlame
Summary: So Virgil spent a year in NYC before he graduated and a whole lot of crap went down that wasn't very helpful for his mental health and so this is a mini fic on one of those times and how he basically met an angel.set in the 'Healing is Chaotic, but so are we' universe, roughly three years before the group met.  Can be read as a stand alone.
Relationships: None
Series: Healing is chaotic, but so are we. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812676
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Subways, Cuts and Pastry

**Author's Note:**

> look, I've had this story bouncing around my broken skull for as long as I can remember (aka, as long as I've been writing 'oh my gosh, they were roommates') and what I just wrote is really sad and dark and please read the tags, because I kinda cried a bit when I was writing this. And normally I'm about as emotionless as Logan in the SVS redux, so making myself cry is always fun.  
> anyway, I struggled writing this because in Milan, the subway is called the Metro and in New York City it's called the subway and so it felt weird writing 'subway' instead of Metro.
> 
> third rails carry an electric current and it can kill you to touch it, so don't.
> 
> you can pry an old woman adopting troubled kids as her grandchildren from my cold, dead hands.

Virgil shivered.

It was cold, his arms and back were bleeding and it was taking everything in him not to jump down and  _ bop _ that third rail. He stood, waiting for the subway to come, hoping that it wouldn’t be too crowded again, it was almost midnight and he couldn’t wait any longer to get on one, he had to take the next one, but if it was crowded, it was New York-- of course it was gonna be crowd--

“Is everything okay son?”

Virgil felt a touch at his hoodie sleeve and he  _ flinched _ , jumping back a bit before looking to see the old woman.

“I’m fine, sorry.”

“Are you sure dearie? Your fingers are dripping.” She pulled her miniature shopping cart closer and Virgil took another step away nervously.

He hadn’t noticed the sticky blood and he ducked his head, pulling at his sleeves to cover his fingers. “Just peachy.”

The subway screeched to a stop and the doors rattled open, letting people out and Virgil got in, the old woman a few steps behind him.

The subway was blissfully empty, only one or two people in seats, looking as tired as he felt. His stop was only three away and fifteen minutes later, he was jumping out of the doors and running up the stairs to the outside world of NYC.

Virgil couldn’t go back. Not tonight, he had to conserve strength and patch himself up before school tomorrow. He had to graduate, had to get that scholarship- it was the hope of receiving it that kept him going back to the high school everyday instead of just dropping school all together and moving out of the city, to somewhere where living costs were cheaper and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting stabbed in an alleyway for posting a video on YouTube.

He ducked into an alley- ha, maybe he’d be stabbed tonight, crime rates were higher in this part of town and he honestly would accept the punches as they came now.

Virgil sat down and put his head between his knees, closing his eyes.

It was cold out, and he rubbed his hands together, surprised to see that the warm blood had dried to his hands.

That was one good thing, at least his arms had stopped bleeding. That was one less problem to deal with in the morning. Virgil needed to be one less problem to deal with.

He wanted to  _ d i s a p p e a r. _

Nope.

Stop thinking like that. First he had wanted to touch the third rail and then he wanted to get stabbed? And now he was sitting in a dirty alley, wanting to disappear. Virgil held back a muffled scream, running his bloodied hands through his messily dyed hair, choking back the tears. Something was wrong with him.

There was the sound of someone walking into the alley and Virgil didn’t look up as the footsteps neared, instead voting to pull out what little money he had on him and throw it in front of him.

“Oh dear, I’m not here for your money.”

Virgil looked up to see the old woman from the subway, her bag gone as she held out a hand to him kindly. He opened his mouth to respond and then clamped a hand over it, shaking his head.

“I recognize that look in your eyes, and it’s okay to be scared. But no child should have to sleep here.”

“I can’t.”

“Just for one night?” She pleaded and Virgil caved. He stood and stumbled a bit, but the old woman simply held out her arm for him to take as they walked out to the sidewalk, making their way to a nicer part of the area, where brownstone houses and trees lined the street.

“I’m Abigail by the way. I have a grandson that looks about your age, his name’s Todd and he doesn’t come by as much as he used to.” The old woman, Abigail, pulls a key out of her bag and uses it to unlock the door, ushering him in with a smile.

“I’ll show you where the showers are and then once you’re clean and changed, we’ll take a look at your cuts.”

“I don’t have any cuts.”

“Dearie, your hands are covered in blood, I’m sure that there must be something. Todd left some of his clothes behind last time he came and since you’re on the smaller side, I’m sure they’ll fit.”

Virgil nodded numbly as she showed him the bathroom and then the guest bedroom, before leaving him to his privacy.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a warm shower. But it was pure bliss to finally be able to scrub off the grime of the streets and to let the cuts on his back get cleaned out by the water. Sure, it hurt--  _ a lot _ , but getting them cleaned now meant that he could avoid the sting of rubbing alcohol later when the cuts got infected.

He got out of the shower and got dressed into the clothes that had been provided, choosing to wear his hoodie even though putting it on felt like he was just rolling back in an alley.

There was the smell of something baking coming from downstairs and Virgil slunk down, sticking close to the walls as he entered the brightly lit kitchen.

“Hello dear! I’m just making some apple turnovers while I was waiting. Wanna fold some pastry? You have the perfect hands to do it.”

“What?”

“Your hands are freezing! Pastry loves being cold and so I was thinking if you fold pastry, I can do the fillings.” Abigail waved him over and showed him how to properly fold butter into the pastry before moving from next to him to grab some green apples from the fridge.

When she set them down at the counter where they were working, she turned to him with a smile.

“Can I get a name?”

Virgil shook his head nervously and she shrugged. “That’s okay dearie, I can keep calling you my dear.”

They worked in silence, cutting apples and mixing it with cinnamon and sugar before rolling out folded pastry and placing filling inside. 

Once the turnovers were in the oven and they were sitting at the counter, Virgil rested his head in his hands, dozing off a little in the warmth of the kitchen.

_ There was a hand on his shoulder and Virgil winced, turning his face upwards to see his father staring down at him. _

_ Fail. _

_ Gee thanks dad. _

_ Don’t talkk back at me virgil. Dad’s hand clenched harder, nails digging into his shirt and he nodded, a bit defiantly, but it was enough for his father to push him away, a clear dismissal. _

_ He stumbled out of the small apartment, glad to get out, even if it was to the busy streets of north Boston, even though it was snowing. _

_ He was fourteen. _

There was a hand on his shoulder and Virgil jolted upright, flinching instinctively and he almost fell off his stool.

“Oh sorry dearie! I didn’t know that you’d fallen asleep. But we need to take a look at your arms, they’ve started bleeding again.”

Virgil nodded before he realized what he was doing and he shrugged of the hoodie, resting both of his palms face up on the counter, showing the self harm cuts that ran up his forearms.

“Looks like you’ve been in a bit of a rough patch.”

“Yeah…”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Sweetie, you’re much too young to feel this way. Do you need painkillers?” She rubbed one of her hands soothingly down his back and he tensed up, pain flaring as he bit back a hiss.

Abigail left the kitchen for a moment, and when she returned, she had a first aid kit, a roll of bandages and a bag of mini marshmallows.

“Here’s some water and a Tylenol. While I’m cleaning out your beauty marks, you can pop mini marshmallows to distract yourself with something sweet, since the turnovers are still cooling.”

“They’re… they’re not beauty marks, you can call them cuts. I know what I did.”

“Sweetie, look at me.” She tilted Virgil’s face down so that they were staring eye to eye. “You’re still alive and fighting the hardest battle that you can mentally. And I think that that is beautiful.” She let go of his face and pulled out some Neosporin, pulling the top off and gently squeezing some into the first cut.

“Did I ever tell you about Todd?”  
“You may have mentioned him once or twice.” Virgil grimaced as Abigail started to smear the Neosporin.

“Ah, he was a lot like you. Dark, brooding, with a lot of sadness hiding behind his eyes.” Abigail started to patch up his arm, sighing softly before continuing. “He stopped coming over when I found out how hurt he felt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. He was a good kid. He liked it when I used gala apples in my turnovers and that was the only unforgivable thing about him.” She started on the other arm and Virgil was tempted to poke at the white bandages that covered his arm.

“Don’t poke them dearie.”

“Okay, I’ve just never been able to wrap them up like this.”

“Never?” She looked at him with concern and Virgil ducked his head, letting his bangs sweep in front of his face as he shook his head.

“It’s all good, you have Grandma Abby to take care of you now dearie.”

“It’s Virgil.” 

“Virgil? What a beautiful name! I love it so much.” She beamed widely and Virgil could feel himself blush.

“It’s not that cool..”

“Nonsense!” Abigail threw her hands up, accidentally tossing some gauze behind her. “Oop! I’m almost done, then we can have the turnovers and then you can rest in the guest room while I go back to my quarters.”

She wrapped his arm quickly compared to the first one, maybe it was because she wasn’t talking, but once she had finished, she cut a turnover in half, sliding it to Virgil on a napkin.

“Now, if I wake up tomorrow and a few of my more expensive things are missing, I’ll understand, but please refrain from the silverware, it’s not that nice. Sleep well Virgil.” 

She left and Virgil sat there for a moment. He wasn’t planning on robbing her, but he had planned on sneaking out before she dropped that she was expecting him to rob her?!? Virgil took a bite of the pastry and decided that he’d leave in the morning before she woke up.

Maybe he’d come back. After all, she said that he had the perfect hands for making pastry.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos?  
> comments?  
> crofters?
> 
> I now have a discord server! [Here it is!!!](https://discord.gg/kFZCXg)


End file.
